Three Wishes

Three wishes. Hah! If ever you are offered three wishes: run! I was given three wishes and look where it got me. I chose intelligently enough, or so I thought at the time, and though for a while, I confess, it was fun, ultimately I am miserable, caught in a vicious circle of desire and frustration.

Wanting to be able to have any woman I desired, but wary of being desired by other women, my first wish was that my desire for women should be reciprocated in equal measure, so that women I disliked would dislike me, and of course that those for whom I lusted would lust as much for me.

The was no trickery in the wish's granting; the granter was faithful, and to this day there is no woman who will not abandon her intentions and commitments to satisfy herself merely because I crave her. `Crave' is the only correct word for what I feel; my lust for women has become an addiction and I have all but forgotten love. I think that perhaps it is love that I desire, but what woman will ever love me? What woman can love me when I feel nothing but disgust for the way they succumb so utterly to my will. So often I see hatred in their eyes even in the throes of passion and wonder if my own hatred is as apparent.

When for my second wish I asked for money, the little gnome hesitated. `How do you want it? Do you want to win the lottery? Or do you just want a wallet that is never empty?' The problem, he explained to me, was that governments got suspicious about unexplained sources of income and would get very upset if he just created some; a few pounds here, a few thousand lire there, the odd mark or two, these were all fine, but bigger sums would be noticed.

I decided on the lottery, and the gnome gave me the winning numbers for the next draw: I won a cool five million pounds. I went a little wild at first. I quit my job - no way was I ever going to work again! Bought a large house and furnished it expensively, indoor pool and everything. And, you know, it's astonishing how quickly one can spend a million pounds, or two, or three.

I woke up eventually, invested most of what remained. It's nothing to sneeze at, I suppose, but it doesn't make me happy. I'm comfortably miserable, with plenty of space in which to scream.

At first I wasn't sure what my third wish should be. After all, I had money and I had love - or so I thought - so surely the third wish was redundant? Then it struck me: immortality! I could live forever! So I thought about it for a bit, then decided. I wished for `eternal health, vigour and youth'. The little gnome frowned, and I thought he was going to object that I had wished for three things, but he said only, `Are you sure?'

Again I hesitated, surprised at his reply, but eventually I said, `Yes.'

`Well, okay,' he said. `Just remember to change your identity from time to time. People don't seem to like immortals very much.' And as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished.

And I am stuck. With three wishes I sealed my fate: Hell on Earth.